


The Good Fight

by toesohnoes



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-20
Updated: 2006-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle’s brought back for an hour at most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Fight

“Angel. _Angel_. Wake up, man.” Doyle hissed as he shook the other’s shoulder. “Angel. Come on, I don’t have much time.”

He looked up, out at L.A through the large windows of the penthouse apartment. Necrotempered glass; seeing Angel in sunlight wasn’t something he’d get used to any time soon. Not that he’d actually have time to get used to it.

“Angel. Wake the hell up.” Another few prods to Angel’s shoulder, and suddenly there was a supernaturally strong hand gripping his wrist. “Right. Finally. You sleep like the dead. Which, y’know, figures. What with you being vampire-y.”

Brown eyes blinked, stared, frowned at him.

“Yeah, Angel. Uh… It’s me. Doyle. And, I know, I’m dead and all but there isn’t really time to go into the technicalities, okay? Kinda on a mission here.”

“What?” The word was more of a groan than anything else, and Angel moved to prop himself up on the bed. The sheets fell down, pooling by his waist and leaving his chest bare.

Doyle moved back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. Doyle, dead, back for about an hour on a mission. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Angel answered, running a hand over his face. He stopped, frowned, then shook his head. “No, I don’t. A mission?”

“Uh-huh. That mission being you. So wake up proper and listen to what I’m sayin’, okay?”

Angel nodded, although he still didn’t look especially awake.

“You’re worrying the Powers, Angel. Makin’ some pretty weird choices, if you get me? I don’t know the whole story, just what I’m told, but it doesn’t sound good.” Wasn’t that the truth? Doyle really didn’t have a clue what was going on, but what he’d been told hadn’t been good; joining Wolfram and Hart, losing Cordelia, losing Fred, and now joining the Circle of the Black Thorn? Not a good track record.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Powers don’t think so.”

“They don’t know nearly as much as you think, Doyle. They let Cordy die.” It hurt to hear that out loud. Doyle wished he didn’t have to.

“They didn’t ‘let’ her die. She died. Can’t blame that on them; ‘sides, you got a day with her, didn’t you?”

Angel just shot Doyle a look that said that wasn’t enough, was never enough.

“Angel, man. You can’t just give up, y’know?” He started, trying again. He needed to get through to the other. This wasn’t just a mission, like all of the other countless people he’d talked to and set on the right path during his years as a guide, after his death. This was more – this was personal. This was Angel. “Gotta keep going. Fight the good fight, yeah?”

“Don’t, Doyle. You’ve not been here. You don’t know what it’s been like.”

“Don’t need to – it’s been hard. I get that, man. Believe me, I get that. I’ve got years of getting that under my belt.” Years of drink and betting and ripping his life apart; years of visions and death and champions. Years of hardships. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna give up. That’s not what we do. Not what you do.”

“You don’t know that,” Angel insisted, shifting where he sat. He looked almost uncomfortable.

“Sure I do. You’re Angel – my first champion. You’re the hero.”

“Your ‘first’ champion?” Angel asked, and Doyle wished he’d missed that bit out. “There have been others since?”

“Maybe. Not what we’re supposed to be talking about, though,” Doyle answered, with a smile that was answered sadly by Angel.

“Lie with me? We’ve got an hour; you should be comfortable,” Angel suggested. Doyle paused, thinking. He wasn’t even sure if it was a full hour that they had; the Powers had a tendency to do whatever they wanted with him.

Still, he found himself kicking his shoes off. “I get comfortable, you promise to listen to what I’m saying?”

There was the vaguest nod of Angel’s head, then Doyle swung his legs up onto the bed and lay down next to the vampire. They’d done this before, when he was alive. Sat on the couch, stood by the desk. Never a bed, though. The bed was new. The concept wasn’t.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Neither of them needed to, and that was really saying something for Doyle.

“You gotta stay strong, Angel. I know the past few years have been tough; but you’re strong. You can-- ”

The words were cut off by a mouth against his, by such a soft touch it was almost dizzying. Angel pulled back a few seconds later, the kiss never going anywhere. “I’ve missed you, Doyle,” he whispered.

Doyle smiled, a little shakily. He hadn’t forgotten how he’d felt about his old boss; the years after his death hadn’t dented that crush. “Yeah, you too champion.”

A small growl, then Angel moved on top of him. Naked already, sleeping that way, Angel’s hands ripping at his clothes to get rid of them. Mouth against his again, tongue moving forcefully. Demanding, and Doyle had no choice but to give in and submit – not that he’d choose to do anything else.

Grinding down against him, both hard already. They’d waited years for this. Waited and wanted and needed, both thinking – knowing – that they’d never see each other again.

Angel broke the kiss, leaving a frustrated moan to escape Doyle’s mouth, before he was moving down, sucking on his neck while his hands tugged Doyle’s belt off. Doyle’s head was thrown back against the pillow when he felt a skilled hand stroking over his erection, and the thought of anything else but this, but Angel, was emptied from his head.

Another growl from Angel as his trousers were tugged sharply off, and the sound vibrated right through him. Contact was broken as Angel moved off, Doyle watching him as he hunted through the drawers by the bed. After an agonising amount of time, a small bottle was found and pulled out.

That seemed to bring it all home, because Doyle frowned and propped himself up on his elbows. “Wait, man. We can’t; your curse -”

“Not an issue,” Angel told him distractedly, as his fingers were slicked then moved underneath Doyle. Pressed in, stretched, prepped. Orderly, quickly, no time wasted. How much time did they have? Doyle couldn’t remember, not having a watch on him. Not long, though, and he shouldn’t have been wasting it like this. This wasn’t a waste of time, but he should have been talking Angel ‘round, getting him to see sense.

Those thoughts were lost as his legs were positioned over Angel’s shoulders. Angel pushed slowly into him, with a sigh that sounded almost like a whimper. Doyle’s breath hissed in through his teeth, the pain immediate even with preparation. Angel stilled within him, hands ghosting over his body as he tried to adjust to this. It was the first time he’d had sex with a man; not at all what he was expecting.

“You okay?” Angel whispered, voice hoarse. Doyle nodded because, strangely, he was. There was pain, but he was used to that. He’d watched his mortal body burning up while he was still alive within it; he could take pain. He closed his eyes, focusing only on the feeling of Angel inside him and how right that was after all these years. “Good. I’ve been waiting too long for this.”

Doyle didn’t get a chance to respond, because Angel quickly pulled out then plunged back in. A strangled cry left him, repeated as Angel moved again, setting up a harsh and raw rhythm.

In their current position, Doyle didn’t have a lot of leverage to work with, which made a more active participation difficult. With Angel’s grip of steel on his hips, it would have been almost impossible for him to move anyway.

A blur of motion, rough friction and his own hand moved to his cock, but then something went wrong. He flickered, the room fading to white around him. “Aw, no,” he complained, because he was so damn close and he had Angel. He had him.

Another flicker, room to white to room. Angel had stopped moving, staring down at him with something resembling horror. “Doyle?”

“I’ve gotta go, man. Sorry to leave you hanging, yeah?” he said quickly, between flickers. “Remember what I said – the good fight. Keep at it, keep fighting, keep believing. I’ll be back when I can.”

Another flicker and he was gone, floating in the white that made up the higher dimensions and waiting for his next mission.


End file.
